“I’m going to sleep now. Don’t wake me up.” With that, “Red”, my great uncle, died—moved on to Heaven, Nirvana, Paradise, the Great Beyond. He would probably refer to it as being “put out to pasture”. He had a serious condition that called for open-heart surgery. Pushing eighty, it was never a given that he would make it. However, before reaching that outcome, the bypass machine of this backwoods southern hospital in Tennessee “was broke”. It was later that night that he passed away, waiting for the equipment to be fixed. His father (my great grandpappy) lived to a mighty one hundred (1900-2000), and while his legacy may soon be its own blog (too morbid for initial post?), it does make you wonder… did Red have another 20 years in him?

Now, this is a blog entry, and we do have an upcoming election with a decidedly “No Sick Left Behind (but this time we mean it)” vibe, and Sicko is Now Playing. You may be ready to jump to conclusions, but don’t get those mats out quite yet. Instead of assaulting you with yet more reason, looking at Red’s life and what his presence contributed to this planet may prove more worthwhile. Surprisingly, a lot of hope, perspective, and inspiration can be drawn from this overall-wearing farmer who grunted more than talked and never ventured out of the state.

In recent years, we’ve witnessed telethons, fundraisers, and charity drives. Recently, we were given the glorious opportunity to create a cause on Facebook: recruit your friends, donate your cash, and raise yet more greenbacks. Never you mind that it really is not clear as to where this money is going, as even you or I could create one of these triumphant causes. Do you know how to process online credit donations, provide email receipt/support, and then send to the appropriate charity? I certainly do not, and if I weren’t so golden-hearted, I may—just may—be inclined to abuse this system and the shiny-faced ‘bookers eagerly joining these causes.

But I digress. I referred to some kind of inspiration being drawn out of a man whose accent was so thick that a northerner like me often just had to nod and smile. The bottom line is this: He was a good man. This simple definition carries a much more complex explanation. He sent handmade clocks to distant relatives, surprised friends with collectible knives, carpooled with his elderly neighbors in to town, and mowed his sister’s lawn. As a liberal college student passionate about repairing the Katrina debacle, ending the Darfur genocide, and general peace-ing and harmony-ing, why would this simple man be so impressive to me?

Easy: he’s been paying it forward his whole life. It’s important to realize that the small things we do for one another can work collectively to start something amazing. So if you’re home on a Friday, buy your neighbor a six-pack. If two acquaintances begin to date, buy them a bottle of wine. If you crash on a buddy’s couch, smoke some bud with him to say thank you. I’ve yet to expand this past mind-altering substances, but I’m positive there’s something here.

I myself have started to solidify this abstract thought of kindness and general goodwill toward Man. Keeping a clean house, chatting with the (still) weird neighbor (unfortunately goodwill doesn’t override a catlady’s eccentricities), and volunteering in the town summer camp has been like a glass of red wine. Yes, it actually has given me a buzz, a tactile sense of positive change—a sense of hope.

So, do not remain overwhelmed by the size of the world’s Pro-bl-ems. I implore you! These issues can be solved just by having some perspective. A march on 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue may not end injustices in our corrections system. However, playing the big brother or big sister may keep delinquents, one at a time, away from the recidivistic spiral of our justice system.

You’ve been implored. Act accordingly.